


2012

by sasha_b



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-09
Updated: 2012-03-09
Packaged: 2017-11-01 16:28:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/358918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasha_b/pseuds/sasha_b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick and Shane's first watch night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	2012

**Author's Note:**

> Set during Tell It To The Frogs.

"Hey, you remember that movie? The one about the end of the world."

_creak_

The RV beneath them shifts with their movements. Wind blows and moans up from the base of the quarry, and Rick imagines he can see the water rippling, mini-tide ripping back and forth, smooth pale rocks glowing like moon dusted stone. He shifts and checks the binoculars and turns back to Shane, whose dark hair is shoved back from his face, slick with sweat and from the water he's dumped into his hands and on his head. 

"Which one? There's only about a thousand."

Their voices are low in deference to the people sleeping in the camp they're watching. Stars dot the sky and fill it with blinding intensity; Rick has to blink when he looks away from Shane's face. They're alone and the only ones awake (he hopes) and by god, he's alive and back with his family and Shane too? Someone was watching over him. Rick's not a truly practicing religious man, but he has a feeling someone's on his side. Just maybe. Maybe they'll catch a break. Maybe this thing can work out. Maybe they can -

"Y'know. The one where them Indians predicted it would end this year. And then there was all the environmental catastrophes and shit." Shane looks through the sight on his Glock and lowers it after being sure they're the only things, living or dead, in the area.

"Really? 2012? After all the choices of good disaster movies you remember that one? Damn, Shane, I know your taste is bad, but come on, brother," Rick's dropped his voice to a whisper and laughs under his breath when Shane shoves at him. "That one's terrible, man." Shane knocks into him again, and they laugh together, moon and stars bright illuminating Shane's face as Rick smiles at him - Shane's arm is around Rick's neck, and Rick is punching at Shane's leg, and they both freeze in the same instant.

Rick swallows and isn't shamed to feel his eyes burn.

Shane drops his gaze, and looks up at Rick again through thick lashes, his black pupils dilated and wide in the still air. He sits his Glock in his lap and bites a lip and turns to face Rick, pulling the other to him in an embrace that Rick is sort of expecting but still, it's surprising and wonderful and he rests his free hand at the base of Shane's neck and stills.

He can feel their hearts beating together, slowing, marching like time inexorable, partners, his brother, his friend and fuck's sake, but the universe or God or whatever has given him his wife and son back, and his best friend too. He murmurs a brief prayer of thanks, even if it's only Shane's name out loud.

"Missed you," Shane whispers, and then adds, "I'm sorry. So sorry." His breath catches and for a minute Rick can't hear him at all, and then Shane pulls back and rechecks his gun and stares off into the woods, watching for the killers they all have to be on guard against now.

Rick's hand still sits on Shane's neck, and he lets it drop gradually, falling to his own lap and the binoculars. He smiles at the sky and the stars and can feel the water that laps in the quarry - cool and beautiful and calming and an anathema to all that this world is, now.

"A gift," he murmurs to the wind, and is surprised when Shane nods. Sweat soaks both of them, the necks of their shirts darkened and damp, their waistbands heavy and sticky and their skin dirty and slick and yet they sit as close as they can, arms touching, legs brushing, feet dangling off the edge of the RV, boots swinging in unison.

"You think the Indians were right, then?" Shane asks, breaking the comfortable silence. Rick cocks his head and catches Shane's eye. "Those dudes were Mayan, Shane. And no, I don't. The world didn't explode, really."

All those dead bodies at the hospital, the half eaten _thing_ in the grass he'd had to shoot, the woman that came to Morgan's house every night, looking for her family. 

"If you say so, Rick," Shane answers, and Rick shudders once, despite the breeze that springs up.


End file.
